


Hairdressed for Success

by meandminniemcg



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But actually no longer Malfoy, Customer Harry Potter, Dom/sub Undertones, Don't copy to another site, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hairdresser!Draco Malfoy, Justin Finch-Fletchley is a git in this fic, M/M, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Trans!Theodore Nott, Weddings, queer eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 15:37:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20449493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandminniemcg/pseuds/meandminniemcg
Summary: If Harry has to attend his ex-boyfriend's wedding, at least he will go there with a new hairstyle and his head held high. Little does he know what a difference the choice of hairdressing salon can make for his life.





	Hairdressed for Success

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Etalice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etalice/gifts).

> This fic is a get well soon gift for @Etalice. 
> 
> A big thank you to my awesome beta reader @keyflight 790.
> 
> This fic was prompted long ago by @maesterchill in the prompts-free-to-write channel.   
Based very loosely on[this](https://embed.tumblr.com/embed/post/Ss_8eDjZWDP66cJFBq91eA/185056083024) cartoon

It was a Muggle hair salon, at least Harry thought so. And he preferred Muggle places, especially since his dramatic breakup with Justin Finch-Fletchley, who after dating him for two years left him for Percy Weasley of all people. “He’s less chaotic and doesn’t have so much baggage.” Justin had said.

And now, after just six months, they were getting married and had invited him. He hadn’t really wanted to attend, but Molly had begged him to reconcile with Percy; she couldn’t hold all family events twice for the rest of her life because two of her kids wouldn’t talk to each other. And Harry had been so grateful to be called one of Molly’s kids so matter-of-factly that he hadn’t dared refuse. He had just told Molly that he wasn’t doing it for Percy but for her, Arthur, Ron, Ginny, George, Charlie and Bill.

Yes, Ginny was his ex, too, but they had broken up amicably, both insisting that the other was an amazing person, but that they were better off as just friends.

Justin had made Harry feel that he wasn’t good enough, too broken to be in a relationship.

Harry had the vague feeling of having seen Emily, the brown-haired hairstylist before, but he couldn’t place her; maybe she was a friend of Dudley’s, after all. Dudley had apologized to him, and they had formed a tentative friendship, and Harry had attended Dudley’s wedding and the baptism of his daughter.

“I need to look good,” Harry told the stylist.

“For a date?”

“No, for my ex-boyfriend’s wedding on Saturday.” Harry ruffled his hair.

“That calls for a few secret weapons! You chose well to come to our salon.” The stylist gave him a smug look. She pressed an intercom and said, “Harry Potter is here.”

Harry wanted to flee, but the stylist stood between him and the way to the exit. Fuck, they are witches, or Squibs. They will want autographs.

“A brilliant choice, Potter, you will get the best makeover of your life, impress the fuck out of your ex and the git who marries him, and maybe before the wedding is over, you’ll have someone better than that Finch-Fletchley in your arms. You know, we Slytherins are experts in dressing for success.”

Slytherins! It had taken the Slytherins years to rehabilitate themselves enough that everyone of Harry’s age and younger got half the chances everyone else got. The three years after the war had no First Year Slytherins, partly because the students refused to accept being sorted into Slytherin, partly because anybody sorted into Slytherin was transferred by their parents to Beauxbatons or Durmstrang immediately. Only when Slytherin was opened to Muggleborns, and the new Muggle Studies teacher Andromeda Tonks became head of House, did that change.

“Scared, Potter?” a new but all too familiar voice drawled, and Harry succumbed to his knee jerk reflex and replied the way he had always replied to it during their Hogwarts days.

“You wish.”

“I don’t. I want you to come back to our salon Even though I won’t ever take money from you. Do you have a plus one for the occasion?” Malfoy manhandled him onto the chair and pushed him to the washing basin.

“No?”_ I won’t tell Malfoy of all people that I’m too broken for a relationship._

“Can you ask a friend who would be credible as a fake significant other?” Malfoy turned on the water at a perfect temperature.

He massaged Harry’s scalp with shampoo so tenderly, it was the most relaxing feeling. The shampoo didn’t have the usual salon fragrance, but a different one, one that seemed to be exactly Malfoy’s cologne mixed with Treacle and the air above a Quidditch field.

“Are you using Amortentia in the shampoo?”

“Of course not. Remember George Weasley’s invention Amor’s wellness? You smell what Amortentia would smell like to you, while everyone else just smells an ordinary, but well-chosen cologne or perfume and it doesn't fuck with your mind.”

Harry decided to ask George about it. He remembered vaguely that Ron had told him about a perfume potion that George had sold to a shampoo company in France, some business the Delacours invested in, but it had sounded rather boring to him, as he didn’t really use beauty products.

“Potter, please forgive me for letting our correspondence die down after my trial. I was in a bad place back then.” Malfoy’s voice sounded soft and regretful.

“No problem. I’ve been seeing a mindhealer ever since those days, and I feel like I’m still not where I should be.” Harry thought of how often the mindhealer reminded him that he deserved good things in life, and how often he was not able to act upon her words.

Malfoy washed the shampoo out, and massaged a hair mask into the lengths of Harry’s hair. “Your hair needs more moisture, you have such a gorgeous hair structure, but nobody ever taught you how to take good care of it.”

“Comes with being raised in a barn, or in my case in a cupboard under the stairs,” Harry deadpanned.

“And being tactless comes with being raised by Lucius Malfoy.”

“You weren’t tactless now, I was over-sensitive.”

“You were over-sensitive now because I was a git then.” Malfoy dried Harry’s hair and turned to him. “I suggest leaving your hair long, just cutting it into shape and using some products, so you can have it more manageable, you could still tie a ponytail or wear it in a manbun.”

“You’re the expert, Malfoy, I know that you can handle my bird’s nest.” Harry saw a strange emotion flash across Malfoy’s face. He was glad he had replaced his signature glasses with contacts.

“It never was a bird’s nest. I was just a very sore loser. Actually, throughout my Hogwarts years, I wanted to touch your hair, just once. Maybe I became a hairdresser because it fascinated me how much I liked your hair even though nobody styled it well.” Malfoy’s hand twitched for a moment, as if he had stopped himself from caressing Harry’s cheek, but that couldn’t be.

“And is styling my hair what you imagined it to be?” Harry felt kind of nervous at the question.

“No, because in my fantasy, you were getting styled for an event you were happy about attending,” Draco said over the snipping of the scissors.

Emily leaned over and said, “Maybe it would be better for you if you went there with someone capable of making sarcastic remarks about Finch-Fletchley.”

“Er, excuse me, Emily, but where do we know each other from? Sorry that I forgot that.” Harry needed a lot of courage to ask. Usually he had a better memory of faces.

“I get that whenever I show my face on Diagon Alley. One of the perks of transitioning, they no longer spit at you for being a descendant of Cantankerous Nott. The disadvantage is that I was disowned. I’m glad you made sure Draco’s old man wound up in Azkaban while he and his mom are free. His mom helped the two of us learn hairdressing and invested most of her remaining money in this salon. She spent two years behind a cash desk at Primark before our salon brought in enough money to finance employing her as a hair potioneer.”

Theodore Nott! Harry remembered the boy he seemed to be at Hogwarts, silent, always a bit grumpy, and in comparison, Emily looked happy.

“You look happy and confident, Emily. I’m proud of you.” Was it good to say that? Emily didn’t need Harry’s approval.

“And I’m proud of you for planning to go to that wedding with your head lifted high and a date for the occasion and not letting that Finch-Fletchley bring you down.” “But I don’t have a date for it.” Harry knew that it would be far better to have one, but all his friends were paired off; even Lee who had grieved Fred just as much as George had and hadn’t dated after his boyfriend’s death was now seeing a former Hufflepuff interior designer. But he still was counted as one of the Weasleys’ in-laws.

“May I suggest a fake date with a good-looking bloke who is currently negotiating with WWN Visual for the Magical British franchise of Queer Eye? You’d love him.” Emily rested one hand on Harry’s shoulder. Malfoy seemed to choke on air. Maybe Malfoy fancied the bloke.

“Are you sure that he would want to attend a wedding with someone as broken as me?” Harry cringed at his own voice.

“Potter, you aren’t broken. You’re the reason I didn’t kill myself during my trials. You’re the reason I get up every morning and try to be the best Draco Regulus Black I can be. I just don’t know if I’m worthy of you. And if it’s worth your found family’s reaction.” 

“You changed your name?” Harry was surprised.

“Yes, I wanted to end all allegiance to my father. I am my mother’s son, because she loves me unconditionally. Father would have disowned me if he had anything he could disown me from. He doesn’t deserve me walking around with his name.” When he spoke of his father, Draco’s voice sounded harsh for the first time.

He pushed the chair towards a mirror, and Harry was astonished. He had never looked this good.

“Potter, if you want, I can ask Pansy to take over my customers, and I’ll help you choose the best suit for the occasion.” Draco’s hand landed softly on Harry’s shoulder. 

“About Emily’s suggestion, I wouldn’t say no if you asked me to be your plus one, but I know that it would be a risk with your found family.”

  
Harry had discussed it with Ginny, Luna, Ron and Hermione, who all had told him they trusted his judgement and would be on his side if anyone was to tell Malfoy bullshit. Ginny had said: “Even if Percy is my brother and the groom, he would catch my meanest bat-bogey hex if he insults your plus one. On the other hand, Merlin and Morgana have mercy on Malfoy if he doesn’t treat you perfectly well.”

“Gin, you can count on Draco to be good to Harry. Since he has parted ways with his father, he has gotten rid of that nasty wrackspurts infestation. These days he’s completely surrounded by lyubarinky. And that’s the best sign for a relationship with Harry.” She kissed her fiancée on the cheek.

“Darling, I don’t know those creatures, but I trust your judgement.”

  
As Harry waited for Malfoy in front of the hair salon, he was glad that Malfoy had insisted on him wearing a suit with cufflinks. He would have twisted off his buttons if they were sewn on. It was a Muggle suit in a brilliant emerald colour, that he would never have dared put on without Malfoy encouraging him.

Draco stepped out of the salon, and Harry was overwhelmed by the thought that this beautiful man would spend the day with him. He had always known that Malfoy was good-looking, but today he was looking his very best.

“Hello, Harry. Your hair looks exactly as it should. Ready to go?” _Fuck, I should have bigger trousers. Why didn’t I wear robes? I know, to piss Justin and Percy and their pretentious arsetrumpet friends off, but my trousers are too narrow after just a second of seeing Malfoy._

“Malfoy, you – you look great.”

“Draco. We’re not credible on last name terms.”

“Yes, Draco.”

Harry put his arms around Draco and sidealonged him to the Burrow.

“Harry, dear, I’m glad to have you here. And with a plus one.” Molly pulled Harry and a completely overwhelmed Draco into a bear hug. “Mr. Malf…”

“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley, but I severed all contact with my so-called father and changed my name to Black.” Draco spoke softly, and Harry heard a slight shakiness in his voice.

Molly squeezed Draco’s shoulder. “You can call me Molly, Draco. Make our Harry happy.”

“Draco, long time, how is your hair salon in Muggle London doing? I’m happy you’re here with Harry.” Arthur shook hands with Draco cordially. “Harry, Draco was the best at the rehabilitation program. He really got interested in rock culture.”

“Pop culture,” Harry and Draco corrected in unison.

After the ceremony, George ushered them to a table close but not too close to the head table. All Weasley siblings except for Percy and Bill, who had been guilt tripped to be Percy’s best man, sat there and Fleur told Harry and Draco that Bill wasn’t happy about sitting with the Finch-Fletchleys and the bigwigs.

Lee grinned at Draco: “What a nice surprise, our future televisual star is dating Harry. I already lost hope that I would win those ten galleons from Ron. Fred would love this.”

“You bet about us at Hogwarts?” Harry almost shouted.

“You both had this habit of standing on the table and yelling across the Great Hall just to get each other’s attention. What were we supposed to think if not that you were in denial but had the hots for each other.”

At that moment, Justin’s father started an awfully boring speech.

“Muggle version of Binns,” Draco whispered.

Harry stifled a laugh and leaned against Draco’s shoulder; it was just for credibility, wasn’t it?

But Draco put his arm around him and Merlin’s balls, that felt good!

And he kept whispering the most hilarious comments in Harry’s ear; in the end, Harry was almost disappointed when Percy and Justin were to dance their traditional first dance.

“Look at them, too stick up their arse to even dance a waltz, no, they do a Minuet that was out of fashion before Binns was born. And that idiot calls you broken! You deserve a boyfriend who only has eyes for you, someone who knows you are the best thing that ever happened to him, you deserve someone who reminds you every day that you deserve the best. I wish I could be that boyfriend.” Draco pressed his hand against his mouth.

“Sorry, Draco,” George grinned in that way that revealed to Harry that he was not sorry but smug about a successful prank. “I can’t let you both keep believing this thing between you isn’t real, so I smuggled a Veritas toffee on your cake.” He handed Draco a candy “This is the antidote. Take it now, before someone from the Finch-Fletchleys asks what you thought of Mr. Binns-Fletchley’s speech.”

Draco popped the candy into his mouth and started getting up, but Harry stopped him. “I fancy you, too.”

“You should wait ten minutes before you kiss, or the antidote will make Harry dizzy, because he didn’t take the Veritas toffee before.”

“Let’s dance, then,” Draco suggested, and although Harry was anything but confident in his dancing skills, he followed Draco to the dance floor.

And dancing was a lot different and better if one could follow Draco’s lead. After they hadn’t left the dancefloor for a long time, Draco whispered into Harry’s ear, “I like leading on the dancefloor, but in bed I prefer when my partner tells me what to do.”

“You want to be good for me?” Harry whispered back.

“Merlin, yessss!” They moved closer to each other, and Harry felt that Draco was just as hard as he was. He wanted to feel that wonderful body with less layers of clothes. _Now._

“Follow me.” He pulled Draco into the house and into the guest room that had been built after the war, the room where he usually slept when he stayed overnight. He noticed that it was neater than he had ever seen it before, but then he was too busy undressing Draco to really give it a second thought.

Just as he was shagging Draco and jumping over the edge, he heard a loud banging against the door and Justin and Percy swearing.

“Which idiot is occupying the grooms’ nightchamber?” Justin’s pretentious voice yelled.

A happy giggle shook Harry and Draco. It was something Harry had never thought possible, coming and laughing at the same time. Life was beautiful, and Draco made it so.


End file.
